


In Dreams, I Will Come

by Bowm8935



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/Bowm8935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders transferred to the University of Kirkwall after his relationship with one of his professors at Kinloch Hold's private college went horribly wrong. There, he finds himself dreaming of a strange man, drawn to him in ways he never has felt before.</p><p>Modern AU with soulmates</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't sleep, as seems to be the pattern recently, so decided to start on an idea I've had for a while. Hopefully it makes sense!

Anders found himself overwhelmed when he stepped off of the ferry. The University of Kirkwall loomed before him, massive and a little frightening. Built upon the remains of the Gallows from back before the Mage-Templar Wars, it was made of stone, towering high above all the buildings in the city proper, making one able to spot it when approaching the town from a distance, despite it being separated by water. It had four towers, one attached to each of the main buildings, twisting up to the heavens as though trying to reach the Golden City. Each tower was adorned with a flag, gently waving in the breeze, brazenly showing off the school's colors of maroon and gold. The towers drew attention to the buildings that separated each of the college's main areas of study: Law&Politics, Health&Science, Education and Business. Behind the school were the dorms and university apartments, where most of the students lived, depending on what they could afford. There was small building housing the cafeteria and gym on the east side of the university, and the library was in the middle. Anders' eyes were immediately drew to the latter, the building ornate with a Antivan-style design, colorful, large doors and an outside lounge- complete with a small coffee shop- to study at. As his eyes continued to scan the scene in front of him, he notice a restaurant/bar sitting off on it's own, looking very much like the sort of dive you'd find in a college town. _The Hanged Man._ Maybe he'd have to try it sometime.

He was here to continue his studies to become a doctor, something he had desired to be since he was a little boy. He was very thankful to be born in modern times, for both the medical advances as well as the fact that his magic would not hold him back. Prior to the Wars, mages had been taken away from their families as soon as their magic blossomed to be kept in dismal buildings called Circles. This was justified as a way to keep both the mages and the public safe, but they amounted to be no better than prisons, with the jailers oftentimes taking advantage of the very people they were supposed to be protecting. Thankfully, in this day and age all that was required was to go to one of the schools that also taught magic starting at a young age, and then once one reached the age of adulthood, to register. There were still rules to follow, strict on appropriate uses of magic, and the use of blood as a catalyst had been made illegal everywhere but Tevinter, where the magisters still clung stubbornly to the old ways. 

Picking up his bags, he took a deep breath and felt the excitement start to well up. Despite being close to finishing his studies, he was rooming in the dorms since he didn't know anyone. The campus life advisor had been very kind and stressed that he was free to move into the apartments if he found a group to live with. Apparently they were quite large, having up to six rooms to allow for many friends to enjoy college life together. He wasn't sure he was up for that many roommates, but one or two would be fine. As it stood, he was sharing a room with someone called Kristoff, and he hoped for the best. Heading toward the dorms, he was ready to start anew in this place.

~*~

Marian was a flurry of activity, having woken up much, much later than she intended to. It was her first day at her new job, and while she knew her boss wouldn't do much more than chuckle at her, she had no desire to be late. It was kind of Varric to give her this job without any preamble, since he had _just_ taken over his family's business at The Hanged Man after his brother nearly ran it into the ground. While being a waitress was not her dream job, it was something flexible enough to work around her hectic schedule at school, and Varric had agreed to pay her more than most other places would. She had trouble holding down jobs, as her featherbrained ways had a tendency to end up interfering. She wasn't sure how, but she was going to make this work. 

She was hastily trying to pull on her jeans while hopping around with one shoe on when Bethany knocked on the door. Upon entering, she laughed at her sister's antics. She had also been offered a job and had taken it, and when her sister hadn't come out at the agreed time to leave, had come to see what was going on. It was not surprising at all to her that Mari was desperately trying to make up all the time she'd lost already. She watched her fondly, altogether too familiar with this pattern in her life; Mari had troubles getting anywhere on time. It was one of her quirks, often forgiven because she was such a kind soul. She drew people to her like a moth to a flame, adopting all sorts and giving them a family, if needed. Their parents had died a few years prior, when Bethany and her twin, Carver, were finishing up secondary school. An unexpected resurfacing of the Blight had spread across their native Ferelden, and the hometown of Lothering had been one of the places hit the hardest. Thankfully, adequate savings and family in Kirkwall had allowed them a place to go, a place they never left.

Mari tossed her hair up into a messy bun and quickly fixed her makeup from the night before, making due with what was already there. Satisfied with what she saw, she pulled a laughing Beth out the door of their shared apartment, rushing to her little car to get to work. Carver was already sitting in the back, scowling at his giggling sisters as they slid into their seats. Grumbling about making him late on his first day, he crossed his arms impatiently, ready to get started. 

It was not a stretch to look at these three and see they were siblings; all three had dark brown hair, Carver's cut close to his head, while both Beth and Mari had long, flowing locks. All three had blue eyes, but Mari's were speckled with green like their father's had been. Because Mari was so close in height to Beth and didn't look a day older, it was not uncommon that they mistaken for the twins, or occasionally they were called triplets. This always annoyed Carver, as he felt that he lived in the shadow of his older sibling enough. One day he would make a name for himself, he was sure of it.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the tavern, and all three got out, walking up to the back door. A smiling dwarf greeted them upon their entry, dressed in a red button-up shirt and black pants, the shirt's top buttons undone to allow a glimpse at this blonde chest hair- the same color of the hair he had pulled back in a ponytail. He teased them about being late, mainly picking on Mari because after living with her at school for three years, he knew that it was her doing. He took the girls up front to meet Isabela, his most experienced waitress and the one he trusted to train them right. After leaving them in her very capable hands, he brought Carver into the kitchens where a small elven girl awaited to show him how to use the appliances. He chuckled at the way Carver's eyes lit up when they landed on her. Daisy was quite cute, after all. Content with his new workers, he headed back to the office to get some work done.

~*~

Fenris was laying in bed when he heard the girls giggling and the door shut. Staring up at the ceiling, he let out a sigh. They were off to work at the bar, a job he had also been offered but had declined. He currently worked at the university's library; not an incredibly well paying job, but one he enjoyed. It was quiet and generally he was left to his own thoughts, just the way he liked it. He was honestly considering switching his major to library science, but being three years into the training to be a personal trainer, he wasn't sure he was ready to drop it all yet. He did love the gym, after all.

He sat up, stretching and letting out a yawn. He usually slept in later than this, but Mari had been making such a large amount of noise while trying to get ready for work that he had woke out of his dead sleep. He headed to the kitchen to make some coffee, desperate for the caffeine. If he was going to start this day so early, he definitely needed the pick-me-up. After getting the cup of liquid heaven, he moved to sit on the couch, flipping on the TV to the sci-fi channel, sipping his coffee and letting his mind wander. Inevitably, it wandered back to Mari, a place it often ended up. She had found him last year where they had ended up in the school's required Religious History class. Bored out of his mind, his eyes had wandered to her, the most beautiful girl in the room. Her wavy hair framed her heart-shaped face, blue eyes sparkling with humor. He had been enamored the moment she had weaved her way over to him and introduced herself. They had spent time together, studying at first, then, as they slowly became friends, just hanging out. At the end of the year she had offered him a room in the apartment she shared with her siblings, as two of their previous roommates had moved out after graduating. One room still sat empty, but no one was in any rush to fill it. The Hawke children didn't want for money, so they just covered the cost of the room, waiting to find someone everyone would approve of to take it.

He closed his eyes and saw her laughing, wishing with all his heart he could work up the courage to tell her his feelings. She had dated many men in the time he knew her, but none were worthy of her affection. He wasn't so sure he lived up to the standard he held for her, but that didn't stop him from dreaming about it. Dreaming about running his hand through her hair, feeling her soft lips upon his... Feeling his cock start to stiffen, he carefully steered his thoughts as far away from her as he could. It never did him any good to get worked up, since most often he'd end up having to fist himself to relieve the pressure. He never could man up enough to talk to her about their relationship.

Coffee gone, he glanced at the clock and decided to hit the gym early today. School was starting in a few days, after all. May as well get all the time in that he can. Changing out of his sleep pants into a pair of black shorts, he rummaged through his closet to find one of his tank tops to wear. pulling out a plain light grey one, he slipped it over his head. He ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn't sticking up, pulled on his socks and shoes, and headed out the door.

While Mari and her siblings had a tendency to drive everywhere (even the short way to the ferry), Fenris liked to walk or run, depending on his mood. Today felt like a walking day, so he briskly made his way past the college toward the combination gym/cafeteria. Enjoying the autumn air around him, he didn't notice when a man tripped to his left until he heard the bags hitting the ground, followed by a soft "ummmph." He stopped and turned to see what had happened, noting that the man in question was glaring at the sidewalk as though it had jumped up and personally assaulted him. The bright morning light was shining on the strawberry blonde hair that fell loosely around his shoulders, a hand running through it. Generally Fenris avoided people as much as he could, but something was pulling him toward him. Grudgingly, he padded over and held out his hand. 

"Let me help you up."

~*~

Anders stared at the hand held out to him. It was dark, with white tattoos curling around, following a pattern up the arm. He slowly lifted his eyes to look at the man offering his help and was struck by what he saw. Large, emerald green eyes encased in a similarly dark face, framed by the most shocking white hair. Sharp tips of his ears poked out from the hair, giving away that he was an elf. This man was beautiful. Finally taking hold of the proffered hand, he let himself be pulled to his feet. 

Brushing off his jeans, he thanked the stranger. "Thank you for helping me. My name is Anders." He smiled, leaning down to start gathering his bags again.

Fenris watched him for a moment before grudgingly deciding to give an answer. "I am Fenris. I would advise to be more aware of where you are going in the future. Good day." With that, he turned on his heel and continued walking toward the gym. 

Anders watched him go, caught off guard by the wryness in his voice. He was tall for an elf, only a few inches shorter than Anders, who was 6'2". While thin, his muscles rippled as he moved, an entrancing sight. Anders quickly shut his mouth before he started to drool, shaking his head. That was definitely not the most warm greeting he had ever received, but a little rudeness was fine if it came from someone so attractive.

A smile curving on his face, Anders resumed his path toward the dorms. This was going to be a most intriguing semester, he could already tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr as StarlingHawke. Feel free to follow me!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

"Andraste's tits!" 

Merrill jumped as the male voice swore, turning her head to see what the issue was. After a bit over a week of training, the human male still seemed to have problems when operating the fryer. He inevitably burned himself at least once a day, a problem she had been trying to discover the root of so she could fix it. Today he seemed to have managed to pour the hot grease over the top of his hand (how, she had no idea) and it was an angry red, promptly blistering. "Creators!" She cried, dropping the knife she was using to cut tomatoes for the day's sandwiches onto the counter and jogging over to him. Ignoring his wide eyes filled with the shock and the red tinging his face with embarrassment, she took his large hand in between her two smaller ones, allowing the small bit of healing magic she knew to seep over the wound, soothing the skin. Satisfied that she had at least done enough to keep it from blistering, she dropped his hand. "Lethallin," she said sadly, "what are we going to do with you?"

He sputtered a bit, much to her amusement. Shaking her head, smiling at him sympathetically, she turned back to her work. The poor boy seemed unable to string much more than three words together, and even that was a rarity. She wasn't sure if he was shy or a wee bit slow, but Varric had insisted he'd be just what she needed for help. She had been working at The Hanged Man since she was sixteen, hired on because she had quite the skills in the kitchen. By the time she had graduated high school, she had been the kitchen manager, having turned it into her sanctuary. The old manager, Bartrand, had actually treated her quite well, knowing that her cooking was one of the main reasons he had repeat customers. Unfortunately, that had not extended to any of the other cooks that filtered through the kitchens during her stay there. Varric had fired her last partner after hiring on Carver, promising not to increase her hours or force her to work with one of the other cooks. The others were nasty to her, making demeaning comments about her race, tattoos or the fact that she was a mage. He had taken to the kitchen himself to help her originally and seemed to be adequate enough. But Carver, he she wasn't sure about.

She brushed her black hair out of her face and tucked it between her pointed ears, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. His face was screwed up in concentration, working on getting the pizzas prepped for the day, obviously trying to make sure he got everything perfect. Mess that he was, she had to admit that he was the first to listen to her without making snide comments about her being an elf. Knife-ear, they called her, but she usually paid them no heed. She didn't care much about insults hurled her way, able to continue about her work in her incredibly cheery manner. Carver had never once said anything mildly insulted (when he managed to speak, that is) and seemed eager to please. Maybe with some time and patience, he would be the partner she needed.

Another curse drifted her way, and she sighed upon seeing he had dropped the pizza he was working on. Then again, maybe not.

~*~ 

Anders chewed his lip thoughtfully, paper and pen at the ready in front of him. He was sitting at one of the tables outside of the library, steaming cup of coffee next to him as he tried to come up with ideas for his Professional Writing paper. It had only been a week into classes, and already he had a rough draft due at the end of next week. Tapping his fingers on his thighs, he turned over ideas in his mind, rejecting them almost as quickly as he thought of them. He had never been creative enough to do any sort of writing, and had always had help back at Kinloch Hold. Karl usually would come up with the perfect topic for Anders to write about, and then, after an evening of sitting at a computer, typing up the beginnings of one of his monstrosities, he would find hot breath on the back of his neck, strong hands reaching around his front to turn him around into one of their searing kisses. Kisses that usually led to other, more strenuous activities. For a time, Anders had been happy with his life, until he found out the truth...

Shaking his head to dislodge the unwanted thoughts, he tried to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. He yawned loudly, more exhausted now than he usually was by the end of the semester. He hadn't been sleeping very well, his dreams haunted by giant orbs of green and skin the color of dark sand. He wasn't sure how to react to these dreams, since it was about a man he had only met once. A shadow crossed over the paper in front of him, causing him to look up into a smile as bright as the sun.

"Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head in wonder as the owner of the smile sat down, brown hair cascading down her shoulders, bright blue eyes with the most beautiful specks of green full of life, sat down across from him with what appeared to be an iced mocha. He had seen her in his Professional Writing class, talking in an animated fashion with a red-headed woman who seemed less than thrilled to be there. She seemed to exude warmth and happiness, and he felt himself immediately drawn to her. 

"I'm Marian, though most just call me Mari, or occasionally Hawke," she said, reaching her hand across the table in greeting, eyes sparkling. He gingerly reached across and took it, introducing himself as well. She chatted away as though they had known each other forever, and he listened to the melody of her voice, enraptured. She asked him questions about his life, and he answered all of them, leaving out any details involving Karl. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to talk about that mess. Sipping on her drink, she inquired as to if he was working on the paper for the class, and upon his affirmation threw back her head and let out a lilting laugh, making his heart skip a few beats. He found out she was inclined to procrastination, if not completely forgetting about her assignments completely. She was a music education major, and the way she talked, he found it interesting that she was passing her classes. Her intelligence must be off the charts for her to muddle through as well as she did, constantly forgetting about things she was supposed to do. 

As the conversation neared an end, he found himself not wanting to be bereft of her company, so he hastily (if not awkwardly) invited her out to dinner with him. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead, obviously not having expected it. After some musing, she politely declined on the basis that she had to work tonight. However, if he was willing to raincheck, they could have lunch together the next day after their class together. He found himself agreeing eagerly, watching her walk away in anticipation.

He sat back in his chair, taking a sip of his now cold coffee. Yes, if this was how his life in Kirkwall started, he would definitely be okay with it.

~*~

Mari was a ball of energy, rushing around to get ready for her shift again. Fenris was watching her with his lips slightly upturned, amused with how she was running about the apartment. She was busy regaling him with a tale of what appeared to soon be the new man in her life, how they had some writing class together and she had ran into him at the library. Fenris had, of course, realized it was the same man he had helped a while back as soon as she described his shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, honey eyes and tall, lean frame. Jealousy flared deep in his chest at the thought of this newcomer taking the girl he had been pining for, but as he watched her pull her thick hair back into a ponytail, he knew he had no one to blame but himself. If he could just work up the courage to ask her out...but no, now she was intent on this guy. He would have to ride out the tide of this relationship, and then he'd strengthen his resolve and tell her his feelings. Of course, this was the same lie he told himself every time, but he sincerely hoped it would be true this time.

"Fenris, have you seen my work shirt?" Mari called from her room, breaking him from his reverie. Glancing around the slightly messy living room, he found the piece of clothing she had overlooked and grabbed it. He walked over to the door, knocking on it, fully intending to just crack it open and hand the shirt to her. He was taken aback when she threw the door open, standing before him in a pair of tight jeans that accented her curvy hips with only a bra on her top. While not overtly large, her breasts had the perky quality about them that made him want to reach out and cup them, running his fingers over her nipples. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes followed the curve of her body, from breasts to flat stomach to rounded butt. Seemingly oblivious, she reached out and plucked the shirt from his hands, pulling it over her head in one swift movement. Calling out her thanks, she grabbed the keys to her car and bolted out the door.

He blinked once, twice, three times to try to rid his mind's eye of the image now burned there. Without any success, he stumbled over to his room and slammed the door shut, falling onto his bed. Oh, what he would give to run his hands over her body, making her writhe in pleasure and scream his name. His hand snaked down to undo the zipper on his skinny jeans, pulling them down enough to pull out his swelling cock. He didn't wear any type of underwear, it being an unnecessary extra piece of clothing in his opinion. Right now, though, he turned his focus to the picture still lingering before his eyes, stripping the rest of her clothes off in his imagination. Imagining the feeling of her lips over his hard length, he growled, pumping furiously. Pale hands brushing through his hair, flicking at his sensitive ears, mouth wrapped around his member, the wet heat of her mouth delicious. It didn't take long before he was shaking and gasping, his seed shooting out into his hand. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he leaned over and grabbed one of his discarded shirts from earlier that week, slowly cleaning himself up. He tossed it aside, leaning back and closing his eyes, imagining the feeling of her resting beside him, glistening from mind-blowing sex.

He would have her one day, when he could work past his fears of rejection.

~*~ 

Beth had gotten the hang of waiting tables incredibly fast, impressing Isabela. Her sister, on the other hand, was still working on ways to remember what people ordered and which table was which. She watched with some amusement as Mari debated which table had order the Antivan White and which had asked for a bottle of the Tevinter Red, distress evident in her face. She had no doubt that with time, she would be able to find her own manner to be successful, as long as Varric continued to be forgiving for her airheadedness. 

"Sweet thing, you have new clients at table five," a sultry voice purred in her ear. Smiling, she turned to thank the buxom brunette with the dark skin and lower lip piercing. Isabela flirted with everyone, and she was no exception. It was gratifying, in a way, since she seemed to be all but invisible when Mari was around. Beth's shy nature kept her from making friends as quickly as her sister, something she was generally fine with. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she made her way over to the appropriate table in the restaurant. It was occupied by a group of three college boys, two of whom appeared to be listening attentively to the third. As she approached, she saw that the one talking had deep auburn hair that fell in waves even though it was cut fairly short, with eyes the color of the sky after the storm, an intense blue-grey. He saw her coming and flashed her a smile, almost causing her to stumble. Catching herself, she chided her thoughts about getting distracted by his attractiveness. It wasn't as though it was the first time she had ran into a hot man at this job.

Introducing herself, she set about getting their drink orders, noting that the auburn had a thick accent indicative of him being from Starkhaven. His eyes had not left her the entire time she was at their table, causing her face to flush when she noticed. He smiled at her, a simmering thing, when she finished and turned to leave. She held her breath until she returned to the counter, letting it out in a short huff that had Isabela chuckling and teasing her. She blushed a deeper red as Isabela turned her teasing into downright dirty bedroom talk, swatting at her arm as she tried to pull herself together to return with the requested beverages.

Surprisingly, she made it through taking their orders without combusting, a major win in her book since he had continued to watch her with that heated look. She had a while to cool down before their food was ready, so when she worked her way back after topping off drinks at her other tables, she felt ready to face him again. 

"Is that your twin?" He asked, interrupting a story one of his friends was telling. He was pointing at Mari, looking rather harried while taking orders of a couple a few tables away. Beth laughed; it was all too common of a question, and one she was no longer surprised to hear. Her and Mari did look a lot alike, after all. She explained that no, Mari was her older sister, that her twin was in fact her brother who had made his food. He laughed, a low, husky thing, sending a shiver straight down to her groin when he questioned if the whole family was as beautiful as her. The blood had rushed to her face again, her knees a little wobbly, unsure what to say. She let out an uneasy laugh, an embarrassed smile gracing her features, turning and walking to the front as quickly as was acceptable. He didn't ask anything more during the night, simply observing her as she refilled their glasses, something she was thankful for. When she went back to clean up after they left, she found a rather ridiculously large tip, and among it, a piece of paper that had three things written on it.

_I'm Sebastian. Call me. 555-8509._


	3. Chapter 3

Mari dragged a laughing Beth into her room, begging her to help find something to wear. She had went to lunch with Anders a few days ago and they had hit it off immediately. When she had realized the time and had to bolt to get to work, he had handed her a slip of paper with his number one it with strict instructions to text him later. She had listened, and was pleased to be invited on a date. It was now Friday night, and somehow she had managed to not be scheduled to work. A fact for which she was very happy, since she had plans to go out with a _very_ handsome man. Giggling and blushing, she told Beth all about him, with his gorgeous hair and dreamy eyes. Beth was giggling along, but Mari could tell she was partially distracted. She knew Beth had met a guy at work who had left his number, but as of yet had to call him. Sometimes she was too timid for her own good, and Mari vowed to get her on the phone this weekend. 

Finally she settled on a pair of her black skinny jeans combined with a low cut top that hugged her body. Turning to watch herself in the mirror, she brushed out her hair and pulled it half back, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face. After carefully applying new makeup (hers had a tendency to linger for days), she presented herself to her sister, who beamed and said she looked perfect. Squealing in delight, Mari tackled Beth and gave her an excited hug. She hadn't had much luck with relationships, and she hoped to finally have found who she needed.

She noticed Fenris staring when she walked out of the room and gave him a cheerful wave. The poor guy didn't seem to have any friends outside of her group, and she made a mental note to go out with him sometime this weekend to show him how to have fun. He inclined his head as she turned away, and she laughed merrily, wishing them both a good night. Beth had to work in an hour, but she didn't know what he had planned; quite frankly, she was much too distracted to care at the moment.

She was delighted to find Anders waiting outside, and placed her arm in the crook of his elbow and they walked to her car. The plan was to go see a movie and get something to eat, but he had insisted on surprising her with both choices. So she drove them over to the ferry, parked the car, and they boarded, watching as the university barely decreased in size as they floated away. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and found his staring at their school, awe upon his face. She knew he originally came from a much smaller college in Ferelden, but that's where her knowledge ended. He didn't go into much detail about his past, and she got the feeling he had been hurt.

After getting off the ferry, they walked to the few blocks to the newly built theatre on the edge of Hightown. It was a large building with a neon sign that stood around 20 feet tall boasting "10 screens!" The building was designed to appear to be made of stone and was in the shape of a small castle, a nod to the old viscount's keep before the Wars. Anders had never seen it before, and Mari saw his jaw drop slightly before he caught himself. She noticed he was good at hiding what he was really thinking, a trait she wasn't sure she would appreciate. They walked through the sliding doors and walked up to the counter to buy tickets. It wasn't as busy as one would expect on a Friday night, the place almost looking deserted. They bought tickets to a romantic comedy titled "In Jane's World," something Mari had expressed an interest in. After buying a large popcorn to share and some drinks, they made their way to auditorium #1. They chose seats in the exactly middle of the room, the middle row and the middle column. 

The movie went by fast, Anders slipping his arm around her shoulders sometime around the halfway point. She found herself unconsciously leaning into him, and her head ended up on his shoulder. His scent floated up to greet her nostrils, a mix of elfroot, mint and ozone. She closed her eyes and inhaled him in, enjoying the way it made her body tingle. Barely paying attention to the movie anymore, she snuggled in a little closer, causing him to chuckle and tighten his hold on her. The slight laughter reverberated in his chest, and she shivered hearing it. She had to admit that she found him almost irresistibly attractive, something she hadn't really dealt with before. She was excited to see how the rest of the night went.

~*~

Anders was surprised when he felt a head drop onto his shoulder, and he looked down at a nest of dark brown hair falling over his shirt. He smiled, pleased, and pulled her in a little closer to him. He hadn't had much of an interest in this movie, honestly, as the plot looked suspiciously similar to any other romcoms that he had seen: girl is too busy with work to have a successful relationship, event happens to bring them together, they start out annoyed with each other but end up falling in love. Karl had liked romantic comedies a lot, so he had seen his fair share. But he wasn't about to let past issues color his start with this beautiful woman that was next to him, cuddling in closer. He chuckled, pulling her in tighter to his chest. When the credits finally began to roll, she pulled away, causing him to mourn the loss of warmth. That was, until he saw her shy smile, still bright and just as entrancing as her normal one. Standing up, he offered her his hand, pulling her out and down the aisle when she accepted. 

Stepping out into the cool air, he led her away from the direction of the parking lot to a little restaurant a block away. He had desperately grilled him roommate about good places to go in Kirkwall, since he was too new to know much. Kristoff had, as usual, taken it way too seriously and printed off a list rating both the eateries and entertainment places in order from best to worst. He had chosen from the list nonetheless, very much aware of what his wallet could handle. He was living primarily off of school loans, having yet to look for a job. The restaurant he had picked was called Fiery Smooth, an odd name but everything pointed at it being an excellent choice for a date. His nervousness was dismissed when Mari figured out where they were headed.

"I've always wanted to go here! I hear they have the _best_ fried ice cream for dessert!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, eyes dancing. 

He smiled, relieved. She had confessed an unholy love of ice cream during their first coffee date, something he had committed to memory and played a good part on why he picked this place. Holding open the door, he let her walk through first, beaming the entire way. The interior was smaller than he had expected, but it had a cozy vibe to it. The walls were a luscious dark velvety red, the tables dark brown with gold outlining the edges as well as the seats, but in a tasteful way. There were canvases lining that walls from local aspiring artists, all in dark hues that complimented the rest of the interior. Music was drifting toward the front from a quintet tucked away in a corner made up of some strings and woodwind instruments, a beautiful melody catching his ear. _Yes,_ he thought. _This place is perfect._

A young boy, no more than fifteen, rushed forward to meet them. His dark hair was cut short to his head, brown eyes lighting up as he approached. "Welcome to Fiery Smooth!" he said in a voice cracking with puberty. Anders couldn't help grinning at the lad, remembering those days all too well. He introduced himself as Connor, then brought them back to a booth near the musicians. Placing the menus in front of them, he informed the couple that their waiter would be with them shortly. Anders thanked him before turning to look at Hawke. She was still beaming, looking even more excited, if that was possible. They discussed possibilities of having an appetizer before starting to peruse the menu. 

"Good evening folks, and welcome to Fiery Smooth." Anders jumped slightly at the sudden appearance of their waiter, who was busy placing glasses of water in front of them. He gazed at the man appreciatively, as he was quite handsome. He had dark blonde hair that was styled to stick up slightly in the front and kind brown eyes that danced and twinkled. He had a small amount of stubble that said he hadn't shaved for a couple of days, but it suited him very well. His smile was bright and mischievous, and he winked at Anders when he noticed him looking. _Oh, I like you._

"My name is Alistair, and I'll be your waiter for tonight." His voice was light yet smooth, a joking tone hidden beneath the professional aura he was using. Anders pulled his eyes away to look over at Mari while Alistair started listing off their specials, and noticed she, too, had become entranced by the handsome young man. After taking their drink orders, he sauntered off, leaving them alone once more. When Mari's eyes swung back to his, he waggled his eyebrows, amused at the blossoming of color across her cheeks. She stammered out an apology, the red turning darker, causing him to chortle merrily and reach across the table to lay his hand atop of hers. Offering her assurances that it was quite alright, he revealed that he found their waiter quite attractive, too. His laughter increased at the taken aback look on her face, something she managed to rearrange into a neutral expression when the man in question returned. After setting down their drinks, Alistair inquired about their orders, causing them both to confess they had yet to spend enough time looking at their menus to discern what they'd like. He rewarded them with a charming laugh before giving them a slight bow, promising to return in a few moments.

Anders grinned, looking from Alistair to Mari, silently thanking the Maker for the whole experience of the night.

~*~

Beth was busy running from table to table, refilling drinks and taking orders. One of their waitresses had called out of her shift, begging sick. Unfortunately, that split the tables in her section between Isabela and Beth, and while Beth had picked up the job with relative ease, this was a lot more than she had ever had to do before. By the end of the night, she was sweating, dipping in and out of the bathroom as much as she could to make sure she still looked acceptable. Finally the dinner rush started to slow, the restaurant emptying while the bar started to fill. It was at this point that Isabela usually flipped to become the bartender, leaving Beth alone. Around 8 o'clock, the kitchen flipped to their late night menu, and the amount of people in the restaurant portion dwindled to none. Beth was busy cleaning the tables when she heard someone slide into the booth near her. Straightening, she plastered her smile on her face and turned to find the lovely auburn with the intense blue eyes watching her, a delighted look on his face. _Sebastian,_ her mind supplied helpfully. She felt her work smile fade into something more real, more shy, and his face lit up. 

Padding lightly over to him, she never got the chance to ask what he wanted to drink as he started talking in that rich Starkhaven brogue that made her weak in the knees. He gently questioned if she had received his message last time, and at her sheepish nod, he frowned a little. Before she knew what was happening, Beth found herself making the excuse she just hadn't had the time yet, but was intending to call him. He perked up a bit at that, a thoughtful look crossing his features. He distractedly asked her for a soda, so she quickly excused herself to get one. As she was filling up her glass, Isabela prodded her and asked why she was blushing. Beth waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Sebastian, and an impish grin cropped up on Isabela's face. Before Beth could stop her, she sauntered over to where he was sitting and slide herself into the seat across from him. Beth groaned, raising a hand to her forehead, watching as Isabela talked with her hands, Sebastian seemingly engrossed in whatever she was saying. Before long Isabela was back up and heading determinedly in her direction. Carefully removing the drink from Beth's hand, Isabela told her in a matter-of-fact tone that brooked no discussion that she was on her lunch break now, and that she was go join him for it. Beth blinked, dazed by the sudden change of events. She had not yet had her break and her stomach was not shy about letting her know how it felt about that fact, but sitting with a guy she didn't know? She wasn't one for out-of-the-blue changes in plans, and she felt anxiety creeping up her being. 

She felt herself being shoved forward, causing her to turn and glare at Isabela, who simply laughed at her. Shooing her with her dark hands, she pointed toward Sebastian in an outrageously obvious manner, causing Beth to groan, again, and turn a deep shade of red. Beth put one foot in front of the other, slowly walking toward him. When she was just a few steps away, she looked up and saw him smiling kindly at her, elation dancing in his eyes. She slid into the seat across from him and folded her hands on her lap, casting her eyes downward. She was shy in normal situations, and this was _not_ what she considered normal. He seemed to sense her inner turmoil, and filled the silence with chatter. She listened as he talked a bit about school and his friends, and soon she was interjecting things about herself into the conversation. Surprisingly, he seemed to set her at ease and she just found herself drawn into their interaction. School and friends led to likes and dislikes, and soon he was questioning her about her family. She obliged, building off of what little she had told him during their last encounter. As she finished, she smiled and shyly asked him to return the favor. He nodded before delving into his past. The more he talked, the wider her eyes grew, disbelief coloring her face.

_She was sitting at a table in The Hanged Man with a future Prince of Starkhaven._


	4. Chapter 4

_Green eyes that sparkled like emeralds blinked up at him, the rest of the face hidden beneath covers. Anders shivered, feeling the gaze pass through him to the TV he was in front of. He turned to see Master Chef: Free Marches Edition playing, the signature host Zevran Arainai using his flamboyant Antivan flare to judge the specialty dishes currently placed in front of him, the contestants all but quivering in their nervousness. Anders didn't count himself among the many fans of this show, but Karl had been, and thus he had seen more than his fair share of it. Zevran, he knew, caused many women (and some men) to swoon with his shoulder length blonde hair braided back into a half ponytail, smoldering eyes, chiseled chin and the signature tattoo underneath his left eye. He possessed a charismatic personality, and was able to turn most anything into an innuendo if we wanted. Despite his friendly demeanor, he was able to put those on his show in their place if he felt they weren't living up to what he expected. Anders smirked as the host ripped (somehow in a kindly manner) into a girl with dark red hair who had apparently burned the meat in her dish._

_He slid his eyes back to the man in bed, white hair falling softly across olive skin, sharp ears poking out from the tufts. Anders tilted his head in thought, wondering why the elf occupied his dreams so often as of late. He had a vague recollection of Karl speaking of something like this as if it were a sacred event, but he couldn't seem to drum up the rest of the conversation. He never remembered the content of the dreams much beyond the green eyes once he woke, so he didn't ever get around to researching the occurrence. A hacking noise shattered his reverie, and he noticed the man was coughing, a pained look upon his face. Eyes softening, Anders made his way over and sat down on the bed next to him, placing a pale hand on the dark forehead. Closing his eyes, he let his healing magic wash over the man below him. Even in his dreams, healing the sick came naturally to him, as though it was his calling. The blue light slid from his hand, spreading around the elf's head and hovering momentarily before sinking into the flesh to attempt to fix the illness. Suddenly, the green orbs spun up to look directly at him, causing Anders to gasp and he felt the world start to reel around him._

Anders shot up, eyes wide, sweat dripping down his face. Breathing heavily, he had conflicting feelings of alarm and arousal, though the dream was already slipping out of his grasp. Setting a shaking hand on his brow, he tried to recall it beyond the emeralds set in olive skin, but to his dismay and frustration, he couldn't. Grumbling, he slowly slid back under his blankets, hoping that whatever had caused him such intense feelings would not return. He needed to get some sleep.

~*~

Fenris was pacing in front of his TV, disconcerted. He had been laying in bed watching his guilty pleasure, enjoying Zevran's playful personality and trying to keep his cough from getting worse. It had cropped up suddenly, painful and possibly a warning of what was to come, so he had hunkered down in bed, variating between drinking water and orange juice to try to nip the sickness in the bud. He had been about to fall asleep when the feeling of magic had flowed over him, and he could have sworn for a moment he saw a pale face with strawberry blonde hair. As soon as he noticed it, the feeling faded away, leaving him agitated, confused and, inexplicably, _aroused._ It was not the first time he had felt another presence in his midst, but never before had magic skirted across his skin. 

Growling, he cursed the feeling, although it had not left the pain typical of such an experience. Magic usually left him feeling broken, cold. This had filled him with warmth and had rid him of his cough. He had no idea what to think of it, but the fact that magic had been performed on him without his permission left a bitter taste in his mouth. Frowning, he picked up his pace, his steps showing his agitation though still silent. He had no desire to wake up any of the household, choosing to muddle through this on his own. How could he explain it if anyone asked, anyway? Certainly not in any fashion that made it sound remotely plausible. 

A burst of laughter erupted from the TV as Zevran no doubt made some hilarious joke, and Fenris groaned. He was missing his show, thanks to something he probably imagined in the first place. It was impossible, after all. He walked back over to his bed and sat on the side, running a hand through his hair. It was probably due to his loneliness, this imagined presence. After all, he had been spending more time at the gym lately in an attempt to avoid Mari and her incessant babbling about her new man. It hurt to listen to her, and though he wished her happiness, he couldn't help but feel it should be him. He made a mental note to try to do something with her, to move past this particular hurdle. He did miss her.

The credits rolled on the television, and he reached for his remote, flipping the TV off. Sighing, he rolled over onto his side, pulling the covers up over his chin. No use trying to work out something that was surely his imagination. Settling in, he allowed his eyes to close and his mind to drift off, sleep overtaking him.

~*~

The first day of Harvestmere was quickly approaching with Mari scrabbling to meet it. Mid-terms were coming up, something she despised more than the Void itself. Her studies had been keeping her busy when she wasn't working, having picked up in pace after the first few weeks of classes. She found herself saddened by the fact that she had not had much time to spend with her friends, family or boyfriend. The latter had only managed to schedule in a few dates here and there, but they mostly kept in contact by texts and late-night phone calls. Dodging past trees that were still steadily dropping their colorful leaves onto the ground, she rushed to make it to her writing class on time. Despite the anxiety that dogged her constantly because she _always_ ran late, the edges of her lips were curved up in a smile due to the fact she was on her way to the one class she shared with said boyfriend. Leaves crunched under her feet as she rounded the dark brick corner of the Health  & Sciences building, weaving through other students as she barreled toward the door leading her into the Education & Business portion of the university. Bursting through the bright glass doors, she cast a glance downward at the watch on her wrist, noting she had one minute to make what should be a five minute walk. A string of apologies fell from her lips along with a litany of "excuse me" as she ducked and swerved her way to the open mahogany door, sliding into the classroom and all but falling into her seat. She was met with a mixture of laughter and annoyed noises as she sat, smiling brightly and waving as if she was on parade. This reaction to her arrival was not unusual, and she found she was well-known across the campus as the cheery girl who was always late and made a humorous entrance. She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and heard a chuckle, turning to grin into the amused amber eyes of Anders.

"There she is, always showing up just in the nick of time," he laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. She leaned her head back and brushed her lips against his, a quick peck before class started. A few wolf-whistles broke out into the room, followed by more laughter before their professor ambled out from behind the desk and called for attention, waving his hands in the familiar motion to break up into groups. Moving away for a moment, she leaned down into her messenger-type backpack and pulled out her folder containing the hastily written paper on the positives and many, many negatives of the old circles. Smiling sweetly, she shoved all fifteen pages into a gaping Anders' arms. They generally went over each other's papers for the peer review section, and this was not any exception to that pattern. 

"Sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away," she said, patting the papers after he sat them on the table in front of him, eyes still wide with shock. He managed to stammer out his surprise that she had written so much, knowing that she had only hunkered down to write it last night. Shrugging, she excused it as a natural predilection toward writing and reached over to pluck his (much shorter) paper from his notebook. She hid her nerves behind an extra wide smile, wary of what her views on that particular subject would incite in him. Even though hundreds of years had passed since the Mage-Templar wars happened and the new Divine had risen to obliterate any remnants of the circles, then carefully creating a system of schools that were much more conducive to mages as well as filtering tolerance through the Chantry, much of the old hatred and fear remained. In fact, most of her previous relationships had ended _because_ of her being a mage, whether by her hand after finding out how the party in question felt about/treated mages, or by the man recoiling and then running. In hindsight, knowing her new beau was the one editing her paper should have crossed her mind when she wrote it and perhaps kept her from choosing such a controversial topic, but it was too late to change it now. Tucking her anticipation as far behind a neutral face as she could manage, she watched his eyebrows knit together as he read through the first page, pen in hand now frozen as though he couldn't believe what he was reading. Fear broke over her like waves crashing upon rocks, and she feared she may have just nailed the lid on a coffin containing her newest relationship. 

Turning away, she picked up the neat stack of papers (though only about three) in front of her and tried to refocus her mind onto what he had wrote about. _Cats, of course it's cats,_ she mused, mildly entertained. Anders more often than not managed to intertwine the subject of cats into all of his papers. Obviously, this was an animal he had a passion for. This particular one was talking about a certain type of cat one could only find in the Anderfels, some sort of cougar whose name she wasn't sure she could pronounce. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him frowning and leaning over the paper, looking as though he intended to devour it...or set it on fire, she wasn't completely sure which. Bringing her eyes back to the paper in front of her, she tried to hone in on the words in front of her. The letters first blurred and then seemed to want to jump off the paper at her, jumbling together until they made no sense. _Ugh, it's no use,_ she thought bitterly. _I'm far too distracted._ So she waited another ten minutes before leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, begging an uneasy stomach as an excuse to leave. Anders gave a slight wave, mumbling something about calling her later, still nose-deep into her writing. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she walked out, worried about what the next few days would bring between them.

~*~

Anders (7:58 pm): Hey, not sure when you get off but would you come over for a bit? Don't care if it's late.  
Mari (8:32 pm): I'm done in about half an hour, if that's okay?  
Anders (8:33 pm): Perfect. K will be out so it's just us. See you soon.  
Mari (8:40 pm): What brought on this need to see me? :-)  
Anders (8:44 pm): I need to talk to you about your paper. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW
> 
> Smut ahead

Anders was pacing in his dorm room. The room itself was not as small as he had expected, coming from living in the apartments near campus at Kinloch Hold. It wasn't overly large, either, but it was big enough to fit two beds comfortably inside with separate closets, two desks (one meticulously organized, one with stuff splayed everywhere), a small entertainment center complete with game consoles and a flat screen TV, a small loveseat and still have enough room to pace comfortably. Some of that was probably credited to him having his bed lofted, but hey, if it's not broken, don't fix it. He had read through the entirety of Mari's rough draft, hungrily devouring all of her points and counterarguments. She was very much opposed to the way mages used to be corralled up like a herd of druffalo and dumped into the circles, left at the mercy of the templars. She had made that much quite obvious by itself, but then to add fuel to her fire, she had made sure to list any and all crimes templars were known to commit, complete with references backing up her claims. He was curious to see why this was such a passionate topic for her, but also quite wary. What if the reasoning behind this was that she knew about him? Could she be trying to gain his trust for some nefarious purpose he couldn't yet see?

He shook his head, attempting to dislodge the inane thoughts racing through his mind. He may not have known her long, but Mari was far too kind-hearted and sweet to ever be behind anything like that. It was just his paranoia running rampant again, something he needed to reign in before it ruined this blossoming relationship. Hands smoothed down his shirt, plain white except for the large Grey Warden symbol on the front and the tour dates of his favorite band on the back.

He grabbed his phone and hit the unlock button. It was 9:15. No messages from her, no indication of where she might be, if she got held over, if she was still planning on coming. He tossed it back on the desk and resumed his pacing, hoping she was still coming over. He was, admittedly, out of his depth here.

His thoughts drifted back to the only other real relationship he'd had. He had met Karl when taking his Anatomy & Physiology course, and the two had hit it off right away. Anders tried to keep his distance despite his attraction to the professor, but found it difficult when they would run into each other outside of class as well. The two had a lot in common, most shockingly being mages. When they had run into each other at the local reagent shop, Anders had temporarily lost control of his mouth and blurted out the question of if Karl would be interested in coffee. Karl had readily agreed, causing his jaw to hit the ground. That coffee date led to another, then another, and then things just started to take the natural pace of relationships. He hadn't cared that they needed to hide it, he understood the college's rules to keep professors and students apart. But Karl had been his everything, and he had given him all of himself only to find out...

A soft knock on the door startled Anders out of the past. Taking a slow breath to calm and recenter himself, he padded over and opened the door. Mari stood outside, hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few wisps that floated just over her eyes. She was wearing her work outfit, a t-shirt with The Hanged Man's logo on it and tight black pants. Her smile was warm, but lacking the sunny nature it usually had. Her hands were clenching and unclenching by her sides, and he realized she was just as nervous as him. Stepping back, he welcomed her into his room, motioning to a chair to sit in. Hands shaking slightly, she lowered herself into the computer chair near his messy desk, gingerly setting her purse on the surface nearby. She seemed to be avoiding his gaze, and he felt his anxiety start to peak. Why was she acting like this?

"Mari," he said softly, keeping his voice even. "I read through your paper, and it was amazing." Her eyes swung up to meet his, searching his face. He paused, taking a breath before continuing, "I've read a decent amount of papers on the Circles and the Templars, but yours seems exceptionally well put together for being thrown on paper at the last minute. Props to you. But..." He moved closer, getting down on his knees before her, taking her hands in his. She watched as he squeezed her hands. "Why does the plight of mages matter to you?"

A sharp intake of breath, then she mumbled something to the floor that he couldn't make out. He freed one hand and placed it under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I couldn't hear you." He gave her a reassuring smile, and she screwed up her face in what he interpreted as resign. Concern fell across his features as he tried to puzzle out why she would be _resigned_ to answer his question. 

"It matters to me because... because I'm a m-mage," she squeaked, stuttering on the last word. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him, obviously assuming he'd pull away. Instead he continued to hold her chin, searching her face for any trace of deception. As the words sunk in, he suddenly leaned forward and crashed his lips into hers. His hand moved from her chin to cup her cheek, pouring as much of his emotion into the kiss as he could. Wetness dripped to his fingers, and he pulled away, alarmed that she was crying. Wiping his fingers in arcs across her cheeks to clear away the tears, he inquired about the show of emotion. She confessed she had expected him to kick her out, to break things off and was surprised that wasn't the case. Her tears were now happy, happy at his acceptance. He chuckled and leaned in for another kiss, delighted when her hands reached up and tangled in his hair. He gently nipped at her lower lip, sliding his tongue across it to request entrance. She obliged and he plunged in, deepening the kiss. Moving his hands down to grip the outsides of her thighs, he scooted her toward the edge of the chair and slowly stood up, holding her in his arms. He made his way over to the loveseat and turned, sitting down so that she was on his lap. He moved his grip to her hips and pulled her in closer, still enraptured in their passionate kiss.

She broke off for air and tilted her head back slightly. He lunged in to plant kisses along her neck, biting gently at the top of her collarbone. She let out a moan, causing a shiver to crawl down his spine. He felt his member starting to get stiff, and groaned when she slid along it on his lap. She continued to rub herself across him wantonly as he slowly moved his hands up to slide under her shirt. Her stomach was taut and smooth, and he could feel the muscles at work underneath the skin. Without any warning she reached up and ripped it over her head, leaving only her breastband covering any portion of her upper body. He returned the favor, pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the ground nearby, pulling her down for another heated kiss as their naked skin met. Reaching back, he unhooked the back of the cloth keeping her breasts hidden, freeing them. Still kissing her, his hands reached around to the front to caress and tease. He pinched her nipples, rubbing them between fingers, reveling in the noises she made. He felt her writhing on top of him, and pulled away from the kiss, leaning down slightly to take one of her puckered nubs into his mouth. Rolling his tongue around it, he sucked and bit lightly, causing her to let out a load moan and grind against his lap harder. 

He felt her reach down and unbutton the front of her pants before she slid off, wiggling out of the tight fabric before standing before him in only her smalls. He could tell just by looking at her how wet and ready she was, and the thought of it excited him even more. She reached out and tugged at his pants, eyes darkened by want, and he obliged, standing up to push them down off of his hips. She gasped when noticing he was wearing nothing underneath before she fell to her knees, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his length. Shuddering, he watched as she licked a line from the base to the tip before taking the head into her mouth. He knees buckled slightly at the sudden wet heat surrounding his shaft, and it took all of his control not to buck into her. She reached another hand around and cupped his balls, massaging and pulling gently while sucking and moving her tongue over his needy cock. His hands threaded through her dark hair, pulling as he whined through the intensity of the feelings. He felt himself quickly approaching the threshold and pulled at her to stop. She leaned back, lips glistening, lidded eyes looking up at him. He reached out and helped her to her feet, lunging in for another kiss once she was standing. Lips and teeth collided, tongues dancing as he maneuvered her to the loveseat, pushing her to lay back. He climbed on top, still kissing, holding himself up with an elbow and snaking his other hand down her belly. His fingers danced around the edge of her smalls before sliding under to cup her mound. Using his thumb, he found the sensitive node and started rubbing, pleased when she suddenly arced her back and thrust her hips up. Continuing to rub, he placed a finger at her wet entrance, tracing it slowly before pushing it inside. Encouraged by her moans, he adjusted his hand so his palm sat against her clit, grinding, slipping in a second finger, then a third. Bending his fingers, he traced the inside of her walls looking for the sweet spot and was rewarded by the sound of his name on her lips when he found it. 

"Anders, Anders, please, oh please..." she begged, writhing and moaning under him. He kissed along the side of her jaw and then down her neck, working his way lower and lower, not speeding up even as her begging increased. She was unraveling beneath him, and he was enjoying every second of it. He reached the bottom of her belly and withdrew his hand, causing some grumbling from her. Chuckling, he removed her smalls, tugging them down and off her legs in one fluid movement. Looking up, he resumed his kisses downward until he reached his destination. His tongue flicked out and licked her swollen clit before sucking it in between his lips, slipping his fingers back into her. He felt her walls start to tighten under his ministrations, and before long she came, screaming his name in a manner that almost sent him tumbling over the edge himself. 

He pulled back, admiring her body, glistening with sweat. His doing. He felt her hands tugging on him and she let out a whimper, begging for him to _please_ fill her, she _needed_ him to fill her. With a single movement, he slid up her body and into her, stopping when he was fulling seated in, both breathing heavily. He started moving, slowly at first, increasing in speed as the impatience set in. She was whining through her need and he was approaching the precipice, dangling near the edge of the cliff. Knowing he wouldn't last much longer, he snaked a hand back down to between her legs, flicking and tugging her clit while continuing to pound into her. She bucked suddenly, screaming as she orgasmed again, and he followed her, her name escaping on a gasp as he came. He near collapsed on her, catching himself on an elbow at the last moment. Panting, he used his other hand to stroke the side of her cheek, smiling when she opened her eyes to look up at him. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her reddened lips, fulfilled and happy. 

He felt her magic reaching out and surrounding him, and he in turn let his creep out and intertwine with it. As he felt the connection of their arcane energies happen, her magic was suddenly yanked back and he looked down into horrified eyes. "You're... you're a mage!?" she cried. Mouth slack, she pushed him off of her and jumped up, desperately grabbing her clothes into her arms. Confused, he stood up, reaching out to help her only to have her back away quickly, an expression of regret on her face. He recoiled, confusion replaced by hurt and anger. 

"I-I'm sorry, I have to go. This...this was a mistake. Sorry!" Pulling on the last piece of her clothing, she darted out the door, it slamming behind her. He watched as it latched violently, eyes wide. He slumped onto the loveseat, grabbing his pants and slipping them on. His head fell into his hands as he wondered why she was so repulsed by him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaangst.
> 
> Angsty Anders.

Empty.

Anders cast a wary eye at the empty seat next to him where Mari used to sit (maybe still will?) in his professional writing class. It had been two weeks since they had coupled- two full weeks of no communication. He'd tried, Maker's breath, had he tried. Text messages and phone calls went unanswered; carefully handwritten letters meant to be sweet were treated the same. He had attempted to catch her at work a few times only to be turned away, gently at first, then with increasing agitation from the dark-skinned serving girl with a sharp mouth. She hadn't come to class at all in those weeks, either. That was worrisome in itself, but even though he may not have known her long, he knew she was highly resourceful. Undoubtedly she had worked something out with the professor that excluded her from class time temporarily. 

He had wondered about needing to find someone else to review his paper, but had received the rough draft back complete with corrections and suggestions only a few days after she had bolted. The elf he had been seeing every night when he dreamed- Fenris, if he recalled the name correctly- had startlingly shown up at his dorm holding a plain manila envelope without any explanation whatsoever. When he had hesitantly removed the package from the beautiful olive hands and asked what the contents were, the elf had crossed his arms and shrugged, a bored look across his face. He had next inquired about why Mari wasn't delivering it herself since she was his partner (and girlfriend, though that may have changed without his knowledge), shocked when the elf's neutral features had shifted into a deep, simmering anger momentarily, hands dropping to his sides to clench and unclench once before he regained control of his face, carefully sorting it back into a blank slate. Then, maddeningly, he had simply shrugged again and walked away, leaving Anders in an even deeper well of confusion than he had originally sunk into.

He tried not to compare this disaster to the one with Karl, he really did. There were not a lot of physical similarities between the two people in question- Mari was short, Karl had been tall. His short, light brown hair contrasted her long and so-dark-it's-almost-black brunette hair. Blue grey eyes versus sharp, ocean blue with green specks. One his age, one ten years his senior. The relationships themselves had been so different, as well. Karl was more mature, steady in his knowledge of what he wanted in life, and didn't hesitate to go straight for it. He was also a mentor, always there to lend a helping hand to Anders when he'd stumble in his coursework or in general. All of that had transferred over to their love life, Karl steering Anders when he'd go astray, being so confident and sure in the bedroom, so experienced. Mari was more unpredictable, fun, flirty. He found that he enjoyed her presence more than he had ever enjoyed Karl's.

But she had left, and, for all intents and purposes, it seemed she had no plans of coming back.

He closed his eyes, pained, and let his head fall into his hands, elbows propped up on the table. Why? Why did this _keep happening to him?_ Ordinary men might ask their father or their friends for advice in a situation like this. He couldn't ask either. His family had held an old hatred of magic, so once his showed, they'd shipped him off to the nearest Chantry orphanage without any hesitation. He could still remember it clearly: the suddenly overwhelming fear he had woke from his nap under his favorite tree with- what he could tell now was caused by a demon trying to sway him. The trepidation caused him to lash out instinctively, a sudden _wooosh_ of hot air hitting his face followed by the smell of burning wood as the barn burst into flames. His parents had ran frantically outside from the small house to see what had happened and found the grass from him all the way to the barn charred, a trail pointing him out as the guilty party. His mom had fallen to her knees and wept bitterly, pulling him close and praying to the Maker to fix him, please, _just fix him_. His father, on the other hand, had turned away without a word, face as hard as flint as he marched back to the house and made the necessarily phone calls to relieve them of his care. When the Templars came to escort him, they found a frightened child begging his parents to give him another chance. He could remember the pity in the Templars' eyes as clearly as he could the despair in his mother's and the emptiness in his father's.

So... No father to ask for advice.

As for friends? Well, he hadn't been here very long yet and he'd mostly kept to himself. His studies had a tendency to monopolize his time; but then again, that was an excuse, wasn't it? Really, he was _scared._ Scared to make new friends and have to leave again. Scared to become attached. His roommate _might_ qualify as a friend, he supposed, but Kristoff was hardly one to pay attention to the trivialities of dating. He was more interested in continuing his study of the Fade and the spirits within than any real people surrounding him. Top that off with his pre-law work and his obsession with justice and, well, that's not much help to him.

He made a split-second decision that he wasn't going to get any real work done in class, so he quietly packed up his belongings into his beat up bag and slipped out of the door, letting the latch close with a tiny _snick._ He turned down the hallway, choosing to head back to his room for optimal quiet so he could further beat the dead horse of the situation. He chose to blatantly ignore the Satanalia decor that had already been strung up around the campus, his fellow students overcome with fervor for the holiday that was still a couple of weeks away. A few years prior, he'd have been joining in the fun without hesitation- Satanalia was his favorite holiday. He had always loved dressing up in silly costumes and going to parties, letting loose and allowing himself to be irresponsible for a night.

That was before last year.

Last year everything fell apart starting at a Satanalia party.

He shivered in the chilly air, wrapping his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to warm up both his body and his heart. Reliving these memories never brought him anything but pain, yet he couldn't seem to deviate from this particular train of thought. Anytime his mind wandered to Mari, it inevitably ended up back at Karl. Maker, but he was a mess.

The leaves crunched underneath his converse shoes, still floating along the ground whenever a breeze came along. The snow storms could come any time now, but he counted himself among those relieved that they had yet to. Fereldon may reach lower temperatures in the winter months, but he still didn't look forward to having to bundle up even more to make it to class. He knew very little about what a Free Marches winter entailed, but it hardly mattered when the word "snow" was uttered in the same sentence. It was all the same to him. Cold, wet and entirely unwelcome.

He turned the corner that led to the entryway of the dorms and increased his speed, paying no attention to his surroundings anymore. Reaching a shaking hand out, he pulled open the door and stepped into the building, making a beeline to the stairs. He proceeded to climb them, leaping two at a time, making it to the fourth floor in what was most likely record time (for him, at least). He walked down the blandly painted hallway, nodding politely as he passed a couple of his neighbors. When he finally reached his door, he halted and tugged on the handle to discern if it was unlocked; he was relieved to find it was not, which meant Kristoff was gone. Pulling out the key, he deftly let himself in and shut it behind him, dropping his backpack on the floor and wearily making his way to the bed. He pulled himself up the short ladder, then let himself fall onto it in its messy, unmade glory, sheets askew and hanging off the sides, a few so far off that they were nearly touching the floor. Such a contrast to Kristoff's neatly made bed, edges folded and tucked in pristinely, picture perfect as though from a magazine. There was no better way to see just how different their personalities were than to simply look around the room; anything of Anders' had a tendency to be thrown together helter-skelter; papers, books and clothes haphazardly piled on any and all of his surfaces, while Kristoff was the poster child of someone who desired only neatness. Everything had a place, a home that it was returned to as soon as he finished with it. Clothing was ironed and hung in the closet, sorted by season, type and finally color. Books were stacked neatly on his desk, papers kept in various labeled folders and writing utensils in a drawer. It was little wonder they had a tendency to barely tolerate each other.

He pulled out his phone and flipped through Facebook, barely processing anything he saw. It was interesting to note that Mari had yet to delete him from her friends list online, though why she had so thoroughly removed herself from his life in every other fashion but this was a confusing mess. 

Like his room. 

Like his life.

Groaning, he carelessly tossed the phone to the side of the bed that touched the wall, resting an arm over his eyes as he fought the pity that was trying to overwhelm him. He knew that lying in bed and criticizing himself was not the answer, but it seemed there was little else he could do. Brooding was a default setting of his, triggered when he was hurt and lost. His reaction to the breakup with Karl had been eerily similar, though that wasn't necessarily surprising since it wasn't all that long ago. 

~*~

_"So what do you think?"_

_Anders stood in front of Karl, preening in his costume (or lack thereof). Karl was giving him a slightly amused half-smile, one side of his mouth quirked up more than the other- as was his usual- and leaning forward. Anders_ adored _that smile. He winked mischievously as he watched Karl's eyes roam hungrily over him, devouring it all. Then, as quickly as it had began, the older man sat back in the maroon recliner, hands folded carefully in front of him, his face a polite mask- except for that smile. That smile that so often preluded time spent doing more... risque things._

_“I’m not sure I feel inclined to let you leave in that, young man,” he answered, eyes dark and voice rough. “At least, not until we make sure it… meets your hospital’s standards.”_

_Anders shivered at the want in Karl’s voice, striding over to him slowly. As he came within reach, Karl grabbed the stethoscope hanging around his neck and pulled him down for a long, deep kiss, before tugging him completely onto his lap. “In fact,” he whispered into Anders’ ear, “I think we ought to check the_ integrity _of it right now.”_

 _About 45 minutes later they were out of the door, stethoscope placed back around his neck (and it had_ not _been used for anything such as tying wrists together, nope) and scrub shorts sitting on his hips. That was all he was wearing, with the exception of a surgery hat and mask also hanging around his neck. The air was chilly on his skin, snow already falling softly around them. After a brief kiss (nothing at all like the ones they had just shared), they went their opposite ways; Karl taking his car and Anders heading for the bus._

_At the party, Anders found his friends quickly. Nathaniel was being a wallflower, as usual, while Solona and Velanna were already on the dancefloor, skirts swirling around them. Nathaniel was wearing a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt and tight jeans, leaning against a wall. He raised his eyebrows as Anders approached, shaking his head as he got closer. “I suppose I should’ve expected for you to wear something ridiculous like that,” he deadpanned._

_Anders shrugged. “Hey, no one told me you were all dressing in theme until I already had this.”_

_Nathaniel sighed. “Yes, because that must have been so hard to get together.”_

_A flash of curly blonde hair caught his attention as Cullen strode up to them, stopping in horror when he saw Anders. “What…what?” he stuttered, eyes wide and slightly panicked. Anders laughed at the man’s discomfort, curious what Solana saw in him. A squeal followed by a figure leaping into the still stunned young man’s arms caused him to laugh harder as his friend tried to embed herself into Cullen._

_“Nice outfit, Anders. Very cute,” she said breathlessly when she finally glanced at him. “Don’t you think so, Cull?” She turned her bright blue eyes up at her boyfriend, playing innocent even though Anders knew better. She was baiting him purposefully, the little devil._

_“I-I… well, uh. Y-yes, very uh, nice,” he managed, looking everywhere but Anders. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing him to gaze down at her with such obvious adoration that Anders felt his heart melt a little._

_“So where’s this supposed boyfriend of yours?” The bitter voice of Velanna cut through, and he turned to see her arms folded, eyebrow cocked as she waited for the answer. She was dressed the same as Solona- pink jacket, white shirt and black ankle-length skirt. Her blonde hair was curled to her shoulders with a soft pink headband adorning the top of her head. Solona had her hair pulled back into a curled ponytail._

_Anders rolled his eyes; this was nothing new. He had made the mistake of using Karl as an excuse once to get out of a blind date, and since then, she’d held it over his head. Of course he was here, as teachers came to the college dance as well, but they couldn’t be together in public. “He couldn’t be here,” he answered, mirroring her crossed arms._

_She sneered at him. “Of course he couldn’t. Why’d I even ask?” she sighed, walking over to Nathaniel and leaning into him. “I bet you don’t even have one.”_

_“Vel! That’s none of our business,” Solona chided even as she managed to tangle herself dangerously into Cullen. Velanna gave her a shrug before turning her attention to Nathaniel. Anders took that as his cue to leave, letting the girls distract their men as they saw fit. He had other friends here he could find eventually, anyway._

_But now he wanted to see Karl. He wondered if he would be able to convince him to sneak off into an abandoned hallway to have a quick make-out session; he felt he needed- no, deserved- it after that. He saw a group of teachers Karl often sat with hanging around the drink table, so he made his way up there, trying to be a carefree as he could. He took a cup of the punch (probably spiked by now) before tripping over an extended foot on purpose. As he fell to the floor, he heard the shuffling of feet as a few of the professors attempted to stop his plummet, to no avail. Laughing, he accepted the hand of Professor Wynne (one of the few who preferred to be called by her first name rather than her last) as he stood back up. His costume received a couple double takes from a few of the staff members, but she just smiled wryly and shook her head._

_“Young man, I suppose I should not be surprised by the outfit you’re wearing,” she stated, humor laced throughout her voice._

_“Not at all,” he answered cheekily, smiling brightly. “Of course I’d wear this. I’m going to be a doctor, after all! A hot doctor, at that,” he paused while a few of them chuckled, before pushing forward. “Is Professor Thekla going to be here tonight? I told him I’d turn in a late assignment by the end of the day and uh, well, I forgot, so I’m hoping to give it to him here.” He arranged his face into what he hoped was a contrite expression. Judging by some of the glances exchanged, he had at least mildly succeeded._

_Professor Wynne didn’t seem to be fooled, though. She was giving him a hard look, eyes boring holes into his. She had always been rather intuitive, and part of him feared that she knew the truth. After a moment, she sighed heavily and answered, “He’s here somewhere. He mentioned that he had some extra papers to grade or some such nonsense, so he wandered off.” She waved her hands in an exasperated manner in the air, almost as though she had been personally insulted by Karl’s absence. Anders thanked her in as polite of a tone as he could before turning around to make his way onto the crowded dance floor._

_As soon as he was out of sight of the professors, he let his face droop, a frown coloring his features. Karl hadn’t mentioned anything about needing to grade extra papers when they had been at his place- not that he was required to tell Anders everything, but it bothered him a little. Oh well. He was going to enjoy himself for a least a bit if he could. He searched out his friend Neria and spent a few dances with her and some of their mutual friends, laughing and enjoying himself while drinking the punch._

_A couple of hours passed, and he found himself to be pleasantly drunk. He’d been keeping an eye on the group of teachers to see if Karl would show up, but thus far, he hadn’t. Despite himself, he was becoming disappointed. They had agreed they probably wouldn’t see much of each other tonight for the obvious reason of keeping their relationship secret, but he hadn’t anticipated that meaning not seeing the other man at all._

__Maybe he just snuck off for a nap, _Anders thought. Karl had mentioned that he had been getting poor sleep lately, some sort of recurring dream bothering him despite any attempt to rectify it. He never shared the details of the dream, just that it haunted him in the nocturnal hours and occasionally during the day. A poorly-timed jibe from Velanna caused Anders to set his jaw and march off down the corridors, intending to search out his boyfriend and give him a piece of his mind. Or his mouth, whichever just so happened to come to pass._

_He tripped over his own feet along the way, falling to the floor, giggling hysterically. Gingerly he rose back to standing, arms out to help keep his balance. He walked down the darkened hallways of the college, stumbling here and there, new bouts of giggling occurring anytime he came close to falling. Finally he turned down the wing that held Karl’s office, causing him to clamp his mouth shut and slap both hands over it for good measure. He wanted to surprise him._

_He approached the room as softly as his drunken self could, surprised to see the door was cracked open. He was within reach of the handle to push it open when a noise made him pause: a muffled “Karl!” came floating out of the room, said in a breathy, high pitched tone. He froze, hand on the door as moaning followed, eyes wide. He leaned forward and peeked inside to see what would start what felt like the end of his life…_

Anders shot up, cursing when his head slammed into the ceiling. Rubbing the sore spot on his head- it was likely to become a bruise- he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, annoyed that he had taken an impromptu nap. He noted that his cheeks were wet, not that it was an unusual occurrence whenever he had the misfortune of dreaming about that wretched night.

He slid off the bed, thankful for his height when he landed without too much of a jarring impact. Grabbing a jacket, he headed resolutely toward the door. The dream sealed it- he was off to find Mari and talk to her. Not knowing what had happened was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t stand another moment of comparing her to Karl. It was not fair to her, and especially not to him.

The door slammed behind him loudly on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sorry, what was that? You wanted answers? >:D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill's crisis- who is her soulmate???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry that it took me so long to update. So it's double update day! Hah. I was having problems figuring out how I wanted to proceed...but I think I have a plan now. Haha.
> 
> These next two chapters are shorter than I'd like, so apologies! Hope you enjoy.

Merrill let out a large sigh and wiped the sweat from her forehead, leaving streaks of dirt over her vallaslin markings. She was working in her garden, a small plot allotted to her in the greenhouse as a botany major. She spent most of her free time here; when she wasn’t weeding, watering or trimming her plants, she just sat on one of the benches, enjoying the feel of nature. It was as close as she could get to being home again.

Sometimes she regretted leaving the small communal living environment she’d been raised in. Her clan of elves had settled on the other side of Sundermount, and while she wasn’t physically far from them, she was distant in every other aspect of the word. She had come of age last year, and at that time was expected to marry a man the Keeper chose for her. She didn’t have anything against Pol- he was fine, really, nice and sweet and everything- but he wasn’t for her. In her time training as the Keeper’s First, she had come across a special talent to discern one’s soulmate, and had excitedly rushed to tell her mentor. Marethari had simply brushed it aside as not relevant, and made sure to remind Merrill that her duty to the clan- and her people- was to marry whomever she was paired with and to produce offspring, to keep the elvhen line strong.

She was never fully able to shake the feeling that Marethari was wrong, that this magic was more important than simply wedding Pol because she was told to. It led to her leaving the clan, and she had not missed the rather chilly goodbyes she had received when she departed. She knew she was going against their centuries-old tradition, but she _needed_ to see if this was true.

So she had hiked to Kirkwall and applied to the college. She knew enough about the outside world to realize she needed to further her education to stand a chance at surviving. Thankfully, the clan did a wonderful job on homeschooling their children, and combined with her talented hand with plants, she was accepted without much of an issue. She had even been blessed by the Creators and received a scholarship! If there was any indication she was on the right path, that was surely it.

She sat back on her ankles, contemplating the crystal grace in front of her. It was blooming better than most in the greenhouse, but she felt she could yet make it produce more bulbs. She bit her lip in concentration as several possible solutions raced through her mind, so completely focused that when her phone rang, she fell backward in shock.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled it out to see The Hanged Man was calling. Confused, she pursed her lips and checked the time. “Oh, creators!” she cried, realizing she had spent more time than she had intended to in the greenhouse. Quickly flipping the phone open, she started to stammer out an apology when the husky female voice on the other end laughed.

“It’s quite okay, kitten. Pup is actually holding up well without you, just try to get here before the supper rush hits, okay? Bye, sweet thing.” The line disconnected and Merrill jumped up, bounding out the doors to run to her dorm.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sorry, sorry!” Merrill called out as she ran into the kitchen, grabbing her hat and apron, tying the latter around her waist. She squeezed past Carver, bolting to the counter she normally ran, simultaneously surprised and relieved to see the condiments for sandwiches fully stocked and ready to go. She had been pushing Carver harder than anyone else she had ever worked with, knowing he had potential to be good but was a little clumsy. The work had been paying off, apparently.

She had made it just in the nick of time, as orders started to pour in from the people out for supper. Merrill took a deep breath to calm herself before starting to prepare food, falling into her normal rhythm that allowed her to smoothly get orders ready in a timely fashion. Soon she was lost in her mind-numbing work, habits taking over as she auto-piloted her way through the rush.

Time passed by quickly, and soon they had moved into the late night menu, more focused on snacks as the crowd changed over from those looking for food to those looking for drink. Merrill took this opportunity to start cleaning parts of their equipment, choosing to let Carver focus on the food for the short time he’d still be there. She broke down one of their ovens and started scrubbing, a task she didn’t particularly enjoy but needed done nonetheless. She hummed along to the music playing in her headphones as she worked the disgusting mess off with a patch of steel wool.

The sound of laughter drifted her way, and she peered around the oven to see Isabela sitting on one of the food prep counters, swinging her feet as she smiled at Carver. Frowning, Merrill pulled out one of the earbuds so she could hear them:

“So I saw you at the Blooming Rose the other night,” the buxom brunette said in a teasing tone.

Merrill watched in fascination as Carver turned a deep shade of red, sputtering for a moment before finding his voice to reply, “What? No you didn’t.”

Isabela threw her head back and let out her signature husky laugh, shoulders shaking with mirth. “You know, pup,” she said, eyes twinkling with mischievousness, “if you’re looking for a good time, I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes around here. Might know a few ladies who’d take a liking to you.” Her smile turned wicked as her brown eyes raked up and down his body, and he blushed further.

Merrill felt jealousy boiling up within her, and she had to work hard to remain quiet. She had no right to interfere in their conversation, regardless of any personal feelings she had.

“I appreciate the offer, but that’s not really my thing,” Carver said, rubbing his forehead. “So thanks, but no thanks.”

Isabela cocked her head to the side and watched him curiously. “What’s not really ‘your thing?’ Sex?” He averted his eyes, and delight blossomed across her face, and Merrill flinched when she suddenly and loudly clapped with glee. “Oh, even better! Puppy likes _men_!” she squealed, eyes dancing. She jumped down to the floor where she stuck out a hip, placing a closed fist on it. “I could still introduce you to some people you’d really enjoy,” she commented, giving him a wink. “Think about it,” she said, blowing him a kiss and sauntering away.

Merrill squeaked and quickly hid behind the oven when Carver sighed and turned toward her. Fumbling slightly, she managed to put the bud back in her ear before he strolled past her, either unaware of her eavesdropping or pretending he hadn’t seen her. Either way was fine with her, and she devoted herself to scrubbing even harder at the grime in front of her. Regardless of what had just happened, she had been blessed- or cursed, depending on how one looked at it- with the knowledge of who her supposed soulmate was. She had been shocked and slightly appalled at the fact it was a human, but after some time, she had accepted it.

Perhaps it was time for her to move on it, no matter the consequences. She stood up, pulling off her gloves as she steeled her spine, and turned to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
>  I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as StarlingHawke


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders confronts Mari for a much needed explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update day! :) Time for some explanations!!! Yay!

Mari knew this day would come.

She had been avoiding Anders for weeks to prolong the inevitable. She knew deep in her bones that it wasn't right, putting him through the wringer without giving him an explanation, but she was scared. A coward, surely. He deserved to know why she left, and why she didn't come back.

He deserved to understand what she had been taught long ago.

She shuddered, trying to contain the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. She was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, with his letters spilled out in front of her. They were all crumpled and stained from the tears she'd cried when she'd read them, unable to compose an adequate response. He had been trying to reach her since she left, and she had refused him at every turn. She had asked Isabela to be gentle with her rejections at work, but the buxom beauty was not known for her patience. She had nearly chased after him one night after watching Bela deliver a particularly harsh refusal that had him rocking back on his feet, hurt blossoming across his face.

She should have followed him and explained then.

She tucked a loose strand of her dark hair behind an ear, taking a deep breath to try to calm her hammering heart. Bethy had knocked on her bedroom door not five minutes ago, informing her that Anders was at the door, refusing to leave until he got to see her. Bethy also adamantly insisted that Mari should talk to him- _now_. So here she was, trying to steel herself to face the man she had _thought_ was the one she was dreaming about- but it was impossible. The blonde hair and brown eyes had her fooled. She wondered why the face was never clear- it always seemed like she was looking at it through a very dirty window, only able to make out the eyes and the hair.

Which, now that she thought about it more, weren’t even _exactly_ the same color as Anders’.

She groaned; oh, Maker, she’d really stepped in it this time.

Sliding off the bed, she slunk over to the door and yanked it open to find Anders was sitting on the loveseat, shoulders tense, elbows on his knees with his hands steepled. Fenris was sitting across from him giving him the good ol’ broody glare, much to her consternation. Because she really needed him to make the situation _more_ horrific by acting like she needed a bodyguard.

She heard a noise to her left and turned to see Bethy rushing from the kitchen toward Fenris, taking his arm and tugging him toward the door. As they left, she received a small smile from Bethy and a worried half-glance from Fenris. She lifted her hand in farewell, simultaneously thankful and horrified to be left alone with Anders.

The sound of a throat being cleared caused her to drop her hand, arm hanging limply by her side. She took a deep breath, counting to ten, before turning around with a smile plastered on her face. Anders was watching her with a carefully neutral look on his face, arm now slung over the back of the couch. She approached him slowly, purposefully choosing to sit in a chair diagonal from the couch. Se folded her hands in her lap and inhaled deeply again, mentally preparing herself for what she needed to say.

“I imagine you have questions about… my behavior,” she started quietly. She noted that his cautiously crafted demeanor slipped momentarily, warring emotions of anger and hurt chasing each other across his face at her words. He leaned forward, opening his mouth to respond, but she quickly held up a hand, signaling for him to remain silent. “Please. Just let me get through what I need to say, then you can ask questions.” He looked mutinous for a brief second before settling back again, motioning for her to continue.

“So… I know you were raised in a Chantry orphanage. Which means you attended a school for magic sanctioned by them, correct?” He nodded at her question. “I don’t think they taught you a lot of stuff. Like, I mean, there’s a lot of old magic and _theories_ that there are no way to **prove** to non-mages, so they kind of get kicked out of a school setting anyway, but especially when the Chantry is involved. The only reason I know about this is because my dad told me. “ He was giving her a quizzical look, obviously wondering where this was going. “Have you… do you know anything about soulmates?”

His eyebrows shot up, shock evident on his face. “Um, I know people talk about having a soulmate. Since I find it hard to believe that there is only one person for me out there in the whole of Thedas, I figured it’s just someone who fits with me like a piece of a puzzle. The corny adage of ‘you complete me.’ Is that what you mean?”

She shook her head; she figured this was the case. “No. I’m not completely clear on if there’s more than one out there per person or not, but it’s true that they do exist. We, as mages, are able to find ours.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “I’m not sure I follow. Is there a spell? Is it a love spell of a sort? Because that’s not really, you know, _soulmates_.”

A short huff of laughter escaped her at his sarcastic tone. “No. It’s… well, you dream about them. That is, they appear in your dream. Most nights. Once you meet them.” A look of mild alarm appeared on his face, but she plowed through. “Dad always told me that while it’s not completely understood how it starts, he thought that once you were within a certain radius of your soulmate, you’d start to dream of them. And it becomes clearer as you get closer, clear as day if you touch them. I started dreaming about a man with blonde hair and brown eyes around the time I met you, so I thought it could be you.” She shrugged sheepishly, letting her eyes fall to the ground. “But it’s impossible.”

“Why?”

She steeled herself, swinging her gaze up to meet his. “Because mages are _always_ paired off with non-magical people. So you and I… it’s not possible.”

~*~

Anders sat back against the couch, mind reeling from what she had just told him. He felt her eyes on him, searching, but he was busy remembering how his nights had been going recently: nightly he had been finding himself experiencing dreams that involved the same person. Always the same, always centering on where this person was, what he was doing. The face was crystal clear _because he had touched him already._

Could this be possible? Could she be right? He’d never heard of anything like that, and he desperately wanted to brush it off as nonsense, but something deep inside was telling him it was the truth. It would make sense that schools wouldn’t teach something like that, and that it would be passed down in families.

His head was swimming. He felt like the air around him was thickening, and he was having a hard time breathing. His hand flew to his chest as he started panting, an anxiety attack building quickly within him.

“Anders?” He felt the couch dip next to him, alerting him to her having moved next to him. Hands cupped his cheek, and he saw her enter his slowly dimming vision, eyes full of concern. “Anders? What’s wrong? What can I do?” He shook his head slightly, focusing on what he needed to do to regain control.

Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing, focusing on both the inhalation and exhalation, counting to 10 both ways. He placed his feet firmly on the floor, aware of the feeling of the ground beneath him, that it was stable underneath him no matter how much he felt like he was swirling about. He started tensing his muscles starting at his calves, then relaxing them, slowly working his way up his body to release all of the tension he was holding. Once that was done, he remained quiet for a few minutes, still breathing deeply. The hands fell from his cheek, yet he did not open his eyes.

The implications of this revelation did not escape him. Karl had been having strange dreams involving some person that started shortly before that cursed Satanalia party. Mari had been having dreams about someone who had similar hair and eyes to him, and had assumed it was Anders. A painful mistake, surely, but an honest one.

While Anders had been having dreams about Fenris.

_Andraste’s dimpled buttcheeks._

Finally, he blinked opened his eyes, looking at Mari blankly. She had scooted away a little, perhaps thinking that her being so close was making everything worse. He could see the regret lining her face, the sorrow evident in her features. _She really did not mean to hurt me._

“So, let me get this straight,” he started slowly, brushing a finger over his eyebrow as he considered the consequences of what he was about to say. “A mage _dreams_ of their soulmate, as long as they have met them, in theory.” She nodded tentatively, still watching him with wary eyes. “So if I have been dreaming about someone…?” he trailed off, not wanting to follow through with the thought.

“Then she is your soulmate,” Mari finished, a bitter smile on her face. “Anders, I’m so-“

“Stop. Just, stop,” he cut her off, shaking his head. He shot to his feet, swaying slightly as the dizzy feeling set in as a result of moving too fast. “I… I have to go,” he mumbled, stumbling toward the door.

_Fenris._

“Anders, wait! Please!” Mari called after him, but it fell on deaf ears. He was too wrapped up in his own mind, falling through the door into the chilly autumn air. He could hear her calling after him, but it was muffled, and he paid it no heed.

_Fenris was his soulmate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I promise Hawke isn't a horrible person like I was making her out to be. :)  
> \----- 
> 
> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
>  I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as StarlingHawke


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